


All The Hell You Gave Me

by bellaimy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, Post-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, well technically it's friends to enemies to lovers i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaimy/pseuds/bellaimy
Summary: Bellamy transcends and chooses to come back for Octavia, so Clarke has to figure out if she's ever going to be able to fix things with him.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 54
Kudos: 122





	1. Even On My Worst Day

**Author's Note:**

> To avoid confusion: They're in Sanctum in this fic instead of Earth, because I said so.
> 
> (Also because I was too lazy to write them building places to live in on Earth. Sue me.)
> 
> The title + the chapter titles are from Taylor Swift's "My Tears Ricochet", or as I like to call it: S7 Bellarke Depression Hours.

_"Even on my worst day,_  
_Did I deserve, babe,_  
_All the hell you gave me?"_

Clarke wishes her friends hadn't come back.

At first, when she saw them waiting for her in Sanctum, the only thing she felt was relief. Relief that she didn't have to say goodbye to them just yet and above all, relief that she wasn't going to be alone for all those years.

She remembers the isolation all too well, from the time she spent in Shallow Valley, with only a child to keep her company. She loves Madi. Or loved. Maybe she needs to say it in past tense now.

But no, she decides. She loves Madi. Present tense. Even if she isn't with her anymore.

And she loves Bellamy.

But no amount of love for her daughter could change the fact that at the end of the day, she was still just a child. There were so many things Clarke wanted to talk about during those six years but kept to herself because she didn't want to put that weight on Madi.

That's why she turned to the radio calls.

Talking to Bellamy kept her grounded. It kept her sane, gave her hope and made her feel like she wasn't alone.

She wishes she could turn to him now.

And she wishes her friends hadn't come back for her. That she was on this planet all by herself, without a radio and without the chance of Bellamy hearing her talk to him.

He's never going to hear her talk again.

So she wishes she was all alone because it isn't fair that she gets to be here with people that she loves, spending the rest of her life in peace and without violence, when that's exactly what Bellamy was trying to find for them.

She should have listened to him. She should have listened more to what he told her about his experience on Etherea and she should have trusted him, just like he trusted her so many times before. At the very least, she shouldn't have put a bullet in his heart. She deserves to be punished for what she did to him and now she's never going to be because her friends are here and she's going to live a peaceful life with them and without Bellamy.

She sees it flash before her eyes over and over again; the moment the bullet ripped through his heart and he violently hit the ground, blood spilling out of his mouth, his eyes wide in shock because even in his last moments he had faith in her. Faith that she wouldn't be as cruel as to actually pull the trigger and murder her best friend.

She can't get that look out of her head.

It's even worse because she knows he's close to her, his body still lying on the cold ground somewhere, with that look still on his face.

She wants to go close his eyes and bury him because he deserves at least that one small illusion of peace, but she can't. She can't bear to walk into that room and look at him, to be face to face with his lifeless body that's only lifeless because of her.

She tries to avoid her friends for the first few days because she can't stand the way they treat her; with so much more kindness than she's used to from them. She doesn't want their kindness or their worry. She wants them to yell at her for murdering their friend in cold blood when all along he was right.

 _Bellamy was right,_ she wants to scream at them. _He was right all along and I killed him and when I told you, you all agreed with what I'd done._

She thinks that's probably the reason they're so kind to her now. Because they justified what she did so if they get angry at her now, after finding out that he was right, they'd have to get angry at themselves, too. And none of them seem to want that. 

For the first week, every day feels pretty much the same to Clarke. Ever since she killed Bellamy, everything has just felt...heavy. The heavy feeling of his death has settled somewhere deep in her bones and she carries it with her wherever she goes. It's like she doesn't know how to be in a world that Bellamy Blake isn't in anymore.

She spends most of her time in bed but she doesn't sleep because every time she closes her eyes, she sees his face. The others have to make her eat because she doesn't have the energy to remember it herself. She also rarely has the energy to eat more than a few bites.

When she can't sleep at night, she often goes outside to sit down somewhere and think. Think about anything, really, but for the most part, she thinks about Bellamy.

On the seventh day, she can't sleep once again, so she opens the door, closes her eyes and breathes in the night air for a moment before opening her eyes to start making her way towards a bench. Except when she opens them again, she sees him.

It feels like the air is knocked out of her lungs when she looks at him, standing only a few meters away from her. The shock is written all over his face and he looks frozen in place just like her.

She can barely even see him in the dark but she would recognize his face anywhere and it's undeniably him. So she closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath because he isn't there. He's dead. She killed him. 

She hates her mind for doing this to her. For making her imagine him standing in front of her when she knows he's never actually going to stand in front of her again.

When she opens her eyes again, he's gone.

She doesn't tell her friends about what happened. They already worry about her enough and she doesn't want them to know that hallucinations are now apparently also something she has. So she keeps quiet about it and acts like nothing happened.

At night she goes outside again. This time she walks for a little bit until eventually she sits down somewhere on the grass and looks up at the night sky, imagining that maybe a part of Bellamy is out there somewhere.

She's not sure how long she sits there but she doesn't care. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters to her anymore. Madi mattered, and Bellamy did. And now nothing does.

„It's a bit cold to be out here for so long, don't you think?“

Clarke's whole body freezes up when she hears his voice from behind her and her heart starts beating so loudly she thinks it might jump out of her chest. 

_It's not real,_ she thinks as she struggles to breathe. _He's gone. You killed him._

She jumps up and turns around, convinced that he isn't going to be there because none of it is real. His voice isn't real and neither was his body the other night. It was all just in her imagination. Dead people don't walk around and they don't speak to people either. She must be going crazy.

And then she's sure that she's going crazy, because when she turns around, Bellamy is standing right in front of her, so close that if she reached for him she could touch him.

He doesn't look surprised or shocked the way he did the last time. This time, he just looks angry. There's a deep frown on his forehead, his arms are crossed in front of his chest and he's clenching his jaw the way she remembers from their days at the dropship.

„You're not real,“ she says quietly but her voice sounds like it's somewhere really far away.

„Why not?“ he huffs bitterly, a short, humourless laugh leaving his throat. „Because you put a bullet through my heart?“

Clarke flinches at that. She's sure she's hallucinating him. She has to be.

She opens her mouth to say something but no words come out. 

„Trust me,“ Bellamy says. „I'm very real.“

Then, after a beat, he adds: „Then again, trusting me hasn't exactly been one of your strong suits lately, has it?“

Clarke's mouth feels dry and she still can't seem to speak. He looks and sounds so real but he can't be. He isn't. 

She doesn't even realize that she's reaching for him until she feels her hand touch his chest. Bellamy flinches at her touch and grabs her hand to pull it away from him. When he lets go of her, Clarke stares at her hand in disbelief for a few seconds, still feeling the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.

„I don't get it either,“ he tells her then. His voice doesn't soften and neither does his expression. „I died but somehow I still transcended. I think maybe it was different for me because I touched the light on Etherea.“

Clarke slightly shakes her head in disbelief, trying to process what's happening. Trying to process the fact that maybe somehow he's actually here. The real him, not just a hallucination that she made up in her mind. She's had hallucinations before but none of them ever felt quite this real.

„Why would you come back?“ she asks shakily when she finally regains her ability to speak.

„For Octavia,“ is all he says.

„Does she know?“

„No. I wasn't exactly in the mood for talking.“

Clarke feels like she's going to pass out.

„You're really here,“ she whispers, more to herself than to him. Or maybe he's not and she really has lost it. 

„Yeah.“

They look at each other in silence for a few moments. Clarke takes in every detail of him. His body, his hair, his face, his freckles...

She thought she'd never get to see any of it again.

„For the record,“ he breaks the silence. „I might as well be dead to you.“

With that, he turns his back to her and starts making his way towards one of the buildings, while Clarke can do nothing but watch him walk away.


	2. 'Til My Dying Day

_„'Cause I loved you_  
_I swear I loved you_  
_'Til my dying day.“_

Bellamy isn't sure why he gives up transcendence.

It's for Octavia, sure, but Octavia gave up transcendence for Clarke, the person that murdered him in cold blood, so he figures it would be more than valid for him to not want to give up actual heaven for her.

But he's Bellamy Blake and Octavia is his little sister, so of course, he does just that.

He wants to tell his friends that he's alive the moment he steps foot on Sanctum, but then he remembers that Clarke is with them and that them finding out would mean she would find out too. And he's just not ready for that yet.

He watches her a lot, during the first week, feeling a bit like a stalker. He watches all of them, but mostly Clarke. He's not sure why though because he should definitely hate her or at the very least he should never want to see her again.

And he does hate her. At least that's what he convinces himself of. He's going to be just fine cutting Clarke out of his life from here on out.

One night he's walking around outside, wondering how best to tell Octavia that he's alive when suddenly the door swings open and he's face to face with Clarke.

He stops dead in his tracks, feeling a sudden wave of emotion hit him at seeing her up close for the first time since she shot him.

He hates that new feeling. He used to curse the butterflies he'd feel in his chest at the mere sight of her, but now he wants them back because they were still better than this feeling of anger, disgust, sadness and even fear.

He never thought he'd be scared of Clarke and what she's become.

Then, Clarke closes her eyes and he takes the opportunity to run away and hide.

He's unclear on why Clarke is the first person he ends up telling that he's alive.

He tells himself it's because he wants to punish her. Make her look into his eyes, knowing exactly what she did to him, but deep down he knows it's the opposite of that. It's not a punishment – it's a relief. He's watched her torture herself over his death the entire week and though he would never admit it out loud, (because he hates her and will definitely be fine with not having her in his life anymore) he wants to take away at least a small bit of that pain.

She did still kill him, after all, so she'll still torture herself enough after finding out he's alive.

Bellamy isn't sure how to feel about the fact that that gives him a sense of satisfaction.

His feelings have been a mess ever since he came back. One second he has to convince himself that he hates Clarke and come up with excuses for why he follows her around Sanctum, and then the next he feels satisfied at the thought of her torturing herself.

The latter makes him think he's probably a horrible person. But then again, so is Clarke, so he figures the two cancel each other out.

He also chooses to ignore a lot of feelings, these days. Like the way his heart jumps a little when her hand touches his chest, or how when he turns around to leave her standing there, he finds himself not fully wanting to.

Stupid him, he thinks.

When he tells Octavia, there are lots of tears and a lot of hugging. He tries to feel happy about having her in his arms again, but the thought of her following Clarke back to Sanctum after what she did to him keeps him from it.

Octavia is sobbing into the crook of his neck, desperately holding onto his shirt with her hands as she tells him over and over again how sorry she is. Sorry that she didn't believe him and sorry that none of them held Clarke accountable for what she did.

His heart drops a little at those words. He thought that maybe at least his friends would've tried to seek justice of some sorts for him - been angry at Clarke for what she did to him, at the very least. But that doesn't seem to be the case.

It makes him feel empty inside. The knowledge that all of them were fine without him. Fine with what was done to him.

Part of him wonders if it's his own fault. There had to be a reason they all found it so easy to turn their backs on him and lose faith so quickly. A reason they all justified him being murdered by their friend, making up any excuse they could.

Maybe if he'd been a better person, things would've been different. Maybe then they would have listened to him, had faith in him, and been angry at Clarke for what she did.

Maybe then Clarke would have never shot him in the first place.

But it also doesn't really matter if it's his fault or not, because, at the end of the day, he knows that no matter the circumstances, no matter their history; he would've never done to Clarke or any of his friends what she did to him. He may have done bad things, many of them, but he's sure he could never be quite that cruel.

So he has a hard time feeling happy when his friends come up to hug him one by one, telling him how happy they are that he's okay. He's just glad that Clarke is nowhere to be seen.

Much like Clarke, he starts avoiding his friends. He can't bear to look at them just yet but he'll get there, he's pretty sure. It's not like he has a choice – unless he wants to spend the rest of his days in his room by himself.

He's okay with spending at least a few of his days that way though, so he does just that.

He tries to read but his mind keeps drifting off, thinking about everything that happened and how the hell he even got here. He briefly finds himself wondering how Clarke is doing, then scolds himself for it because he definitely shouldn't care.

Just then he hears a knock on his door and begrudgingly gets up to open it, which he regrets when he sees her standing on the other side.

„Speak of the devil,“ he mumbles quietly to himself.

Clarke doesn't look quite as freaked out as she did the last time she saw him. The others must have confirmed to her that she didn't hallucinate him, which probably gave her some time to process things.

„Hey,“ she breathes, almost in a whisper.

Bellamy just nods as he averts his gaze. He can't look her in the eyes. Every time he does, it brings him back to the moment she pulled the trigger. He doesn't remember the pain of the bullet, he only remembers the shock. Even in his last moments, he couldn't believe she would do that to him.

But she did.

He loved her so much. And he thought that she loved him too, even if it wasn't in the same way he loved her. That's what hurt him more than any bullet ever could: The knowledge that Clarke didn't seem to love him after all.

„What do you want?“ he asks gruffly.

Clarke doesn't seem to have an answer for that, just staring at him with her mouth hanging open as she tries to find the words. Bellamy finds himself growing impatient.

„I'm sorry,“ is what she says eventually and Bellamy scoffs.

„Well, that fixes things.“

More silence.

„I know that-“ she starts again, closing her eyes for a moment as if to collect her thoughts. „I know that nothing I say could ever fix things. What I did to you was-“

Her words are interrupted by a sudden sob ripping through her and she covers her mouth with her hand to hide it as a tear falls down her cheek.

Instinctively Bellamy wants to reach out and take her into his arms, but then he remembers that he can't do that anymore. And he shouldn't want to, either.

„Yeah,“ he says instead. „It was.“

Another tear rolls down her face and he curses himself for feeling bad for her, even just for a second.

 _Good,_ he yells at himself in his thoughts. _She_ should _be crying._

And then suddenly he feels that sense of satisfaction again. Satisfaction at seeing her cry and be miserable over what she did. He feels sick.

How did they ever get here? How did everything get so messed up?

 _It was her who brought us here,_ he reminds himself. _She's the one who messed it up. Messed_ us _up._

All he ever did was love her, and he didn't stop until the very last moment when she pulled the trigger. He loved her when she said all those terrible things to him on Bardo and even when she pointed her gun at his heart. It wasn't until the bullet actually ripped through it that he stopped.

Now he just wants to get away from her.

He doesn't want to deal with his feelings that seem to change every few seconds anymore. He doesn't want to deal with how messed up it is that he still feels affection for her sometimes. How confusing it is that he hates seeing her cry one minute and then feels satisfied by it the next.

So he just says: „Don't come here again“ and slams the door in her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I don't agree with any of Bellamy's thoughts on how it might've been his fault for being a "bad person" in the past or whatever but, well...You know Bellamy.


	3. If I'm Dead To You

_„And if I'm dead to you,_  
_why are you at the wake?“_

Clarke is pulled out of her thoughts about Bellamy – since he's all she seems to be able to think about lately - by Raven tapping her shoulder from the seat next to her.

The group made it a habit to always eat dinner together, at the same time and at the same table. For the other meals of the day, everyone usually eats whenever they please, but they figured it would be good for the group dynamic to have at least that one time of the day where they all get together and talk.

Nobody ever missed one of their dinners so far; not even Hope and Jordan who – being newly in love – would undoubtedly much rather spend every minute of the day with no one but each other.

Nobody but Bellamy.

It's been two days since Clarke and the others found out he's alive and he is yet to join them for any sort of group get-together but she doesn't blame him. She's not sure if he's avoiding everybody on purpose or if he only avoids the group because Clarke is a part of it, but either way, she understands. God knows he has every right to hate them all, and most of all her.

„Are you okay?“ Raven asks with a slight frown. Clarke has to resist the urge to scoff. _Is she okay?_ What sort of a question is that, considering the circumstances? Of course she's not okay and she doesn't get how any of them could possibly be. She's well aware that when it comes down to it, she's the only one who's actually to blame for Bellamy's death. She's the one who held the gun, after all.

But she can't stop thinking about how they all defended it. It makes her feel sick thinking about how she was standing in the woods, trying to justify his murder to them in any way possible, and nobody objected. Even his own sister agreed. His girlfriend, too.

Clarke wants to throw up.

It makes her angry to think about it all. Angry at all of them, including herself, on Bellamy's behalf. God, he deserved better friends than them. It makes her want to cry when she thinks about everything Bellamy did for the people he loved, only to get absolutely nothing in return.

Clarke gave him absolutely nothing in return. And she hates herself for it.

But she doesn't want to talk about any of that to the others. So she forces a smile, tells Raven that she's fine and goes back to eating her food.

Everybody else has already left and it's getting late but Bellamy still hasn't come to get himself any food. Once again, she gets it. Her friends still have to remind her to eat something a lot of the time, and she figures Bellamy's mental state is probably even worse than hers right now.

It's probably a bad idea but before she has time to overthink it, Clarke grabs a plate of food and starts heading towards his room. She needs him to take care of himself. It's hypocritical after what she did to him, she knows that. But it doesn't matter.

So when she finally reaches his door, she takes a deep breath and then knocks. She waits for a moment but there's no answer, so she knocks again.

When there's still no reply, she carefully cracks the door open and peeks inside, seeing him sitting on his bed cross-legged, an open book in his lap.

He looks up at the noise of the door being opened and her heart drops a little when she sees him flinch a tiny bit the moment their eyes meet. His expression is immediately replaced by one of anger and though his anger hurts too, she prefers it to his apparent fear. She doesn't want to think about the fact that she actually managed to make her best friend, the person she loves, scared of her.

„I, um,“ Clarke starts awkwardly. „I brought you some dinner.“

Bellamy glances down at the plate in her hand with a frown, then looks back up at her.

„I see that.“

Clarke isn't sure what to do or say so after simply standing there for a few moments, she puts the plate down on his nightstand and looks at him, but he's already looking back down at his book, not sparing her another glance.

She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again when no words come out. She tries to think of a way to stall; to find a good reason to stay in his room for even just a few seconds longer. She's missed his presence so much and it doesn't even matter that he hates her, she just wants to be close to him.

But she doesn't come up with a good reason, so she reluctantly leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

In the following days, she keeps bringing him dinner, because he keeps not getting any for himself. He probably doesn't eat much throughout the rest of the day either, but dinner is the only thing about which she knows for sure.

It's always pretty much the same. She knocks on his door and puts the plate down, while he ignores her and waits until she's gone. He never says thanks, and she never wants him to. He shouldn't thank her for something as simple as dinner after what she did to him.

On the fifth day, his resolve finally breaks and instead of ignoring her, he snaps: „Are you ever going to just leave me alone?“

Clarke is taken by surprise and doesn't reply right away. She hasn't heard his voice in what feels like forever, even though in reality it's only been a few days.

„We're all that's left of the human race, Bellamy,“ she says eventually, fully aware that she's kind of deflecting but she can't help it. „I know you have every right to but...I don't think you can avoid me forever.“

„Well, I'm sure as hell going to try,“ he replies harshly as he gets up from the bed to stand in front of her. „You know, it might help if you stopped actively seeking me out every damn day.“

„I wouldn't have to seek you out if you were looking after yourself.“

„Like you fucking care,“ he huffs, his voice bitter. „Besides, if you were so worried you could've just sent Octavia or one of the others. Nothing and no one is making you be here, so stop pretending.“

He's right. She knows he's right but she can't admit that to him out loud. Because then she would be admitting that she really does have no good reason to seek him out. Not right now or ever again. He deserves to just be left alone by her but she can't. She can't let him go.

„I'm sorry,“ she says quietly. „I know I'm being selfish. I know I should just leave you alone but I-“ Her voice cracks and she takes a moment to collect herself. „You were my best friend. You still are. And God knows I don't deserve your forgiveness for what I did to you but...I can't just let you go without even trying, Bellamy.“

She can't read his expression. The anger seems to have faded a little bit but she's not sure.

„And I know that you won't believe me anymore but I need you to know that I do love you. And I am so sorry.“

She's crying again now. She's been doing that a lot lately and has long lost count of the tears she's shed over Bellamy.

For just a second, he looks taken aback by her words, but then the anger is back on his face and his frown deepens as he clenches his jaw.

„You don't love me, Clarke. Not really,“ he says bitterly. „If you did, you wouldn't keep treating me like I'm disposable.“

Her throat feels really dry all of a sudden.

„You say you're sorry every single time, and that you'll never do anything like that to me again and yet you do. You do it over and over and over again. And now you want to stand here and act like you care about me? Like you need me?“

He's shouting now, the words spilling out of him the same way she remembers from their fight about Lexa and Pike in Arkadia.

„You decided that you could do without me. You decided that after Mount Weather, when you left me and then almost in the bunker when you were just about ready to shoot me, and then in Polis when you were fine leaving me to die. And then when you killed me.“

Clarke flinches at the last sentence, still unable to really process the fact that it's the truth. That she really killed him.

„So you don't get to do all that,“ Bellamy continues. „You don't get to decide against me every time and then act upset when I finally decide against you too. And you certainly don't get to act like you need me.“

„But I do,“ she replies quietly, her voice almost a whisper. „I do need you.“

He gives a humourless laugh.

„You made it very clear that you don't.“

„Bellamy, I-“

„Just go,“ he says. „Please. I'll come to the damn dinners if it means you'll finally stop coming here.“

She knows she deserves every word he says to her, and much worse, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. He really does never want to see her again if he can help it. It's not like that actually comes as a surprise but the confirmation breaks her all the same.

He does start coming to dinner, it turns out. But he always makes sure to sit as far away from her as possible, and he never spares her a single glance. Much unlike her, who can't seem to stop looking at him. He looks tired and sad and exhausted and when he smiles, it never reaches his eyes. The knowledge that she's the reason for all of it makes her sick.

Sometimes he talks to someone sitting close enough to Clarke that she almost thinks he's looking at her but his eyes never meet hers, and she finds herself wondering if he's just going to look right through her forever. And she wonders how on Earth she's ever going to recover if he is.


	4. I Didn't Want To Have To Haunt You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah umm...it's been a while since an update. My apologies lmao. Also sorry that this chapter is so short.

_"You know I didn't want to  
have to haunt you."_

A small part of Bellamy misses Clarke coming to his room to bring him dinner every night. He's well aware of how messed up that is but it doesn't matter. He can't help it.

But the other part of him, the bigger one, still can't stand to be around her; to have her close. Every time she's there, it brings him back to the moment she shot him and it's like he feels the same shock and fear all over again every time.

And yet, he finds it difficult not to look at her whenever they're sitting at the dinner table. It shouldn't be so hard. It should be easy for him to not look at her ever again but instead, it's a challenge that he has to focus on with everything he's got. He almost looks over at her a few times but always catches himself at the last moment, reminding himself that he doesn't care what or how she's doing.

She's not the only person he doesn't like being around though. As he looks around the table, he thinks about how no one but Clarke and Octavia has really apologized to him. Maybe they don't think there's any reason for them to. And maybe they're right. He doesn't even know anymore. All he knows is that he doesn't like being around anyone but Picasso these days.

But he knows he's going to have to suck it up eventually. After all, Clarke did have a point: They're all that's left of the human race. He can't avoid them forever, no matter how much he wants to.

And he probably can't avoid Clarke forever either, but he doesn't want to think about that yet. And he also doesn't want to think about what it means that the thought of never really talking to her again makes him feel a little sick.

He often feels angry when he thinks of her, but most of the time he just feels sad. Sad and tired to his very core. He feels sad about what happened to him, to them, their friendship. And a small part of him, despite him trying to drown that voice out, feels sad for Clarke, too.

He knows that all of this hasn't been easy on her either. And yeah, that's her own fault, but it's just painful to think about the fact that after all those times he tried to help Clarke fight her demons, he has now become one of them.

Despite the fact that he avoids Clarke as much as possible, he can't get out of seeing her at dinner. Which means that when she starts getting sick, he inevitably notices.

It's not a big deal at first. She just has to cough sometimes and looks a little more pale than usual. It doesn't seem to be much more than a simple cold. But instead of getting better with time, it gets worse.

He tries to ignore it. He pretends he doesn't hear the others telling her she needs to rest because her symptoms are getting worse. And he pretends like Clarke getting sick doesn't make him nervous in the slightest.

Which it does, for the record.

They don't have a whole lot of medicine down here, which makes simple illnesses a lot scarier than they would have to be.

They're all sitting at the dinner table together when Clarke gets up to get something to eat. She doesn't even make it halfway – after only a few steps she stops in her tracks as if to catch her breath. And then she falls to the side and passes out.

Before Bellamy has time to process what he is doing, he jumps up from his seat and falls to his knees beside her.

„Clarke,“ he says as he starts gently shaking her by the shoulders, trying to get her to wake up. A few seconds later, her eyes slowly flutter open and immediately find his. It's only then that he realizes what he's doing. He _shouldn't_ be doing this.

He takes his hand back as if he had been burned and quickly stands back up. All the others have gathered around her by now. She doesn't need him. It won't make any difference if he's here or not.

So even though he knows it's cruel, he turns around and leaves, pretending like it doesn't feel as if his heart is being ripped out of his chest.

He does not ask anyone about Clarke.

Because if he asks about her, then that means that he still cares about her, and he can't do that. He shouldn't.

But goddamnit, he wants to know if she's doing okay.

It's all he thinks about during the following two days and it takes every bit of strength in him to not just ask his sister about her. He knows it's ridiculous. He should simply let her tell him so that he can stop worrying. But that's the thing; he can't admit out loud that he still worries about Clarke. And maybe he hopes that if he pretends to everyone like he doesn't care about her, perhaps eventually it will become the truth.

The others take turns taking care of Clarke and checking up on her, which gives him at least a little peace of mind. But it still isn't enough. He needs to see her, needs to see that she's okay. But he absolutely cannot do that.

He prays that the feeling will just go away. That he will finally stop caring. That his heart will finally catch up with his mind and hate her.

It doesn't, of course.

So he keeps on being miserable until eventually, another two days later, Octavia comes to his room.

„She's going to be okay,“ is the first thing she says to him. She's never been one to beat around the bush.

Bellamy tries not to let his relief show, putting on an indifferent expression.

„That's good.“

„You don't have to pretend like you don't care, Bellamy,“ Octavia tells him. „I know you do.“

Bellamy presses his lips together to form a thin line.

„I don't,“ he lies, but he knows Octavia won't buy it.

„Her symptoms got pretty bad for a while but she's doing better now. We think that if she rests some more, she's gonna be back to her old self again in no time.“

Bellamy doesn't reply and Octavia sighs.

„Look, I get it. You would have every right to not care about her anymore,“ she says. „But I know that you do. And I think maybe it's time for you to accept that, too.“

She's right. He knows she is.

„I can't do that, O,“ he whispers and it's the truth. How could he let himself care about her after what she did? Even if his desperate attempts to hate and ignore her are in vain, he still needs to at least try.

Octavia gives him a defeated smile and nods slightly.

„Okay,“ she says. Then she leaves the room.

Bellamy spends the rest of the evening as he does most others: with Picasso. She's a pretty good listener, it turns out. Not very good at helping him solve any of his problems, though.

But it doesn't matter much. She's still the best company he's had in a while and Picasso seems to feel the same way about him. She seems to like him even better than everybody else and follows him around as much as she can, hoping he's going to pet her.

Which he always does, of course.

He's doing it right now, too, absently stroking her soft fur as his mind still can't seem to focus on anything but Clarke.

It's exhausting, frankly.

„I really wanna go see her,“ he whispers to Picasso who just looks back at him with her big brown eyes.

Bellamy sighs.

He can't do this anymore. Not today, at least. He can try to keep hating her tomorrow, but tonight he needs to see her. He's exhausted from staying away from her and he's afraid he won't manage it much longer without going insane.

So he waits until it's late and then quietly ducks out into the hallway and tiptoes through the building, careful not to make any noise, until he reaches Clarke's room.

He closes his eyes as he raises his hands to the doorknob, praying desperately that she's asleep. He doesn't know what he would do if she wasn't.

Slowly and quietly he opens the door and opens his eyes and all at once it feels like he can breathe again after suffocating for a week.

He doesn't see much more than her silhouette on the bed, with only the dim light from the hallway shining into her room, but it's her. She almost looks peaceful when she's asleep.

He knows it goes against everything he's been trying to do the past few days but he wants to hold onto this feeling, so he leans against the doorframe and watches her for a while, unsure of how many minutes pass until eventually, he forces himself to step back into the hallway, close the door and go back to his room.

Nobody will know about it. He can go back to trying to ignore her now. Clarke is going to wake up tomorrow like on any other morning. It will be like nothing's different. Like he was never there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bad chapter but oh well, I figured a bad chapter is better than none at all.


End file.
